Dinner time at the Browns

(This piece will be my next column for Me Plus Three, but I wanted to share it with you guys because it was such a funny situation!)


It was a family dinner like any other in the Brown household. I was bribing Lars to eat all of his supper in return for a brimming bowl of deliciousness, that included strawberries and whipped cream with an added touch of sprinkles on top. I’m pretty sure that it was the sprinkles that sealed the deal.

Sophie of course was offered the same deal, but Sophie, you see, does not give in as easily to bribery. She did not want to eat her roast beef dinner, and I am sure that no amount of multi-coloured sprinkles would change that. I held strong though while telling her that she would not get any dessert until her plate was clean.

My heart sank a little as I dished up Lars’ bowl of berries and cream; Sophie just looked idly by knowing that she would not receive any, because her plate still had 90 percent of her dished up food still lying there sadly.

She meanders over to me and gives me a tug on the hem of my shirt, “Mama? I don’t get any?”

Well that was it for me, her words made my heart ache and it is times like these when I want to just give in to every rule and regulation I make as a mother and say, “Oh yes dear, you can have this…Having nothing in your belly aside from sugar just before bedtime seems like a wonderful idea.”

But no, I again think of my responsibilities as Mom, and instead tell her I will dish her up a bowl, but she has to go eat her food first. This way, I tell her, your treat will be ready and waiting once you are done.

This answer seems to suffice for the time being, and I make my way down to the laundry room in our basement to swap over the stewing pile of whites that I keep forgetting about in the washer.

I get a little carried away down there, because let’s face it, the laundry is just never done. As I arrive back in the kitchen I immediately realize I have a problem on my hands.

Sophie’s plate of roast beef and veg is not touched from the last time I saw it, but the girl is nowhere to be found. Lars is sitting in the living room playing his DS (which I told him he wasn’t allowed to play after dinner time, but I will have to deal with that one later as I have a MIA child on my hands now).

I ask him where his sister went, and he gives me an occupied ‘I dunno’ as he feverishly tries to defeat Bowser in a Super Mario Brothers game.

I run up to the bedroom area of the house, but not before noticing that the bowl of desserts that I had made for Sophie’s impending completion of her dinner was also nowhere to be found. I round the corner to my bedroom where Treehouse blares loudly almost deafening me as I walk into the room.

There smack dab in the middle of the floor in front of the TV is a large dollop of whipped cream speckled orange, blue and pink with sprinkles. I still don’t see my darling daughter though, or the bowl which she has stolen.

I move towards the en-suite bathroom and hear a smacking sound of sorts. 

Once turning the corner I immediately have to hold back the urge to laugh. There’s Sophie huddled neatly between the toilet and wall scooping handfuls of delightful whipped cream and berries into her drooling gullet.

There is a white sugary mop atop her head, as though she has found a new use for the stuff as a wig, and her hands are stained in rainbow colours from the melting sprinkles.

“Sophie! What are you doing?” I ask, trying to sound scolding between gasps of giggle fits.

“I’m sorry Mama!!!” She immediately begins bawling, I’m not sure whether that is from remorse or embarrassment…Or maybe a bit of both.

I explain that I am upset because she stole, and that stealing is not alright even if we want something very badly.

I think she understands as she comes to sit on my lap and gives me a hug. She tells me she will not do that again, but as I have said before Sophie is my ‘strongly willed’ child- And I can’t see this being the last of our misadventures together! 


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